Need You to Know
by Cloudsinmycoffee9
Summary: Posts of a series of moments not seen on the show, but that we can imagine might happen, when Robert and Cora remember and remind each other how much they love each other. Prompts welcome!
1. Chapter 1

She was already under the covers, her light off and book away, when he made it into their shared bedroom. He smiled softly down at the way she curled into the pillow, turned to his side, her hand outstretched just a bit as if she was ready to reach for him. He padded over as quietly as he could and removed his slippers before sliding in beside her.

"Oh, Robert, there you are," she murmured, and her hand reached fully out to his side as he'd predicted. "I've been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, dearest. Go back to sleep if you wish."

"No, no, I've been longing to speak to you all day." Cora curved closer to him, slipping a leg between his. Her arm wound around his middle as he reached beneath her shoulders to draw her to his chest until her head rested happily against him. "I feel as though we've barely seen each other since we've arrived. Is it silly to say I've missed you?" She sighed in content as they finished their practiced adjustments, and Robert smiled a kiss into her hairline.

"Not silly at all. I missed you, too, Cor," he whispered, his embrace tightening briefly around her. "How was your day, darling?" he asked, and she began speaking in sleepy, slow tones about their luncheon, and her growing concern for Mary, and the things Mama had said. He heard the names of his various family members, and chuckled lightly at her small jokes as she kept talking, but he couldn't keep his mind from drifting back to his conversation with Shrimpy.

'We don't like each other.'

The words echoed in his head and he sighed heavily back into the pillows. How terrible for Shrimpie. He felt for Susan, too, as he knew he should. They both looked so terribly unhappy, sounded so unhappy. And Rose caught in the middle of it all.

'We don't like each other.'

To spend day in and day out, every meal, every social occasion, every holiday, every night with someone you didn't like. Well - he supposed they didn't spend their nights together. Robert knew it was unusual for people of their kind to sleep together at all after an heir and a spare had been secured. He knew the relationship he and Cora had was different than most. Suddenly words Mary had said so long ago came back to him - 'I hope you know really smart people sleep in separate rooms.' He smiled to himself, knowing that Mary and Matthew had shared a bedroom from the beginning of their marriage. They were certainly a couple that liked each other. He couldn't imagine any two people better suited for each other, except maybe he and Cora.

'We don't like each other.'

"Cora - "

She looked up at him from where her head lay on his chest, surprise evident. He'd interrupted her, he knew - interrupted some story about what Rose had said at tea and Susan's reaction - he could hear her words still hanging in the air and see the slightly annoyed look on her face but he couldn't stop himself from asking -

"You know I like you, don't you? That I like you a great deal?"

All sound suspended for a moment and he felt a rushing in his ears.

"I - " she began awkwardly. "I - wait, Robert, what?"

"I like you. I like you very much," he offered, suddenly a little embarrassed and almost wishing he'd never said anything at all.

Accustomed to his sporadic bursts of thought, she recovered quickly enough to smile indulgently at him and answered. "Well . . . after nearly thirty years of marriage, I should hope your feelings are a bit stronger than that," she teased.

He shook his head. "Of course I love you - "

"I love you, too, darling," she whispered sweetly and kissed his jaw.

"-but the thing is, I also like you. I like your company. And I hope you like mine."

She sat up, leaning on her hand by his side and turned to him, eyeing him curiously. "I adore your company. But Robert - what's this about? Is it - "

"Shrimpie. Something he said about Susan and him."

"Oh." She nodded sadly. "It's awful watching it, isn't it? Sometimes I feel quite exhausted trying to change the conversation between them or find something neutral to say….and the way she can be with Rose. Poor dear. It's so difficult raising children, especially as different as she and Rose seem to be. But I hope I was never like that with our daughters. Especially . . . "

Her voice trailed off and he watched her eyes drop. The slight set in her jaw as she swallowed and turned away confirmed that she was trying to hold back tears and he reached to pull her back down to his chest. She resisted for a moment before allowing herself to again lean into his embrace. Her face found the crook of his neck again, and he felt the slight wetness of her cheeks against his skin.

"You were never that way with Sybil, no matter the challenges we faced with her. If anyone questioned her unjustly or caused Sybil to feel anything less than the incredibly gifted and sweet creature she was, it was me. I should have been as supportive as you were all along. Luckily, even when I was being stubborn and stupid, she never backed down and was always exactly who she was."

"Darling Sybil," Cora said softly into the dark. She snuggled deeper against his chest, hooking her leg back between his and wiggling her toes beneath his calf. He held her close to him, stroking the braid of her hair. The pain of losing Sybil was still fresh and deep, and the divide that had appeared between them in the aftermath of her death had been crossed, but both still found it hard to speak easily about any of it.

Robert wondered when it would ever get easier, if it would ever get easier. 'When one loses a child, is it ever really over?' Cora had asked the day of the funeral. Thank God Mama had persuaded the good doctor Clarkson to do some more research on the matter and present his findings in what had begun as a terribly awkward and painful conversation and ended as the beginning of a chance for forgiveness between Cora and him.

Before that, those first few weeks had been full of nearly unbearable pain, resentment, and as much scotch as it took to get him to sleep in his dressing room. He would lie awake, night after night, hearing Cora's soft sobbing just across the threshold in their room, knowing she didn't want him there to comfort her, as she still held him responsible for Sybil's death. Night after night, praying that it was all some mad nightmare he would wake from - that Sybil and Tom would be proud parents together, that Cora was falling asleep in his arms every night, that Mary and Matthew would soon be having a child of their own.

Oh, and Edith, his mind automatically supplied. Their middle daughter with the worst luck in the world, it seemed. This new fellow seemed a nice enough chap. Clearly he was interested in Edith. That this new relationship would end up with his daughter finally happy and loved was all he wanted at the moment. He sent a silent prayer up to God that this Michael Gregson character was the right choice for his troubled middle child.

Cora's hand sliding over the silk of his pajamas brought him back to the present moment. Her palm and fingers trailed a path from his shoulder to his waistline and back, caressing him gently but with no real intent. It was always so soothing when she touched him so, drawing him in, grounding him to the earth, to her. She was his tether, his constant to it all when he felt things spinning beyond his control. And the way their daughters were, the war, his mama, the estate . . . it all too often felt like it was beyond not only his control but his comprehension. But she never wavered, his Cora. She faced it all bravely, gracefully, with a flexibility and sense of humor he rarely seemed to muster. And as he felt her hands saying 'Don't worry, I'm here, I'm with you come what may,' he felt his own hands responding, touching her gently at her elbow, her shoulder, her neck.

"Come here, darling," he whispered, turning on his side towards her and shifting his legs and hers until they were face to face. With an arm under her neck, he pulled her to him, his hand at her back, kissing her face softly until she hummed contentedly at the contact.

"So what was the thing Shrimpie said?" she asked slowly, tilting her head slightly so he would kiss her cheek again. He did and then pulled back to look at her.

"He said, that is - " he stumbled for a moment to get the words out. "I asked him about how they were doing, he and Susan. Not to pry or anything, but it's just so painful and obvious and . . . well, he said that they didn't like each other."

She stilled and looked up into his eyes. "Not that they don't love each other, but that they don't _like_ each other?"

"Darling, I don't think love has ever been a part of the equation for the two of them. I'm sure neither of them ever expected to find love in their marriage," he answered gently. "It generally isn't a reality for people of our station. You know that."

Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip before shaking her head. "I know. It's just . . . so terribly sad and . . . I guess . . . sometimes I forget how lucky we are."

"All things considered?" he questioned softly, his hand drifting to outline her cheek before settling again at the back of her neck.

Her eyes smiled at him and he felt warm from the tips of his toes to the top of his head under her gaze. "All things considered. I know how lucky I am, Robert, even if sometimes I might seem to forget. I wouldn't trade you for anyone else in this world. You're mine for keeps."

"Darling - " He pulled her face to his and their lips met tenderly until she pulled back with a playful grin.

"So?" she asked expectantly. "You like me, Robert?"

"Of course," he murmured, trying to bring her lips back to his.

"Well?" she dodged his efforts.

"Well, what?" he huffed.

"What is it that you like about me? Inquiring minds want to know."

"Oh, for God's sake, Cora. You know what I like about you. Come," he moved to kiss her again, but she shook off his advance.

"Robert, please." She placed a hand on his chest. "Maybe it's selfish," she shook her head slightly and looked away before looking back at him and continuing shyly. "But . . . something must have come to mind about us if what Shrimpie said affected you so. And, well, I wouldn't mind hearing it, if something did in fact come to mind."

"Cora . . . " even he could hear the petulant tone in his voice as he said her name, but he couldn't help it, merely wanting to hold her close and kiss her. Of course, a hundred things that he liked about his wife had come to mind over the course of the day since that conversation with Shrimpie. He'd gone so far as to consider writing her a letter; a few brief lines of poetry had flitted through his mind, but he'd shaken off the foolish notion to write his wife of over thirty years a sonnet. She'd likely laugh at him. He never felt quite confident in his ability to express himself through words around his wife - she had an endless capacity to unnerve him, which she always seemed completely unaware of - and he felt much more inclined to show her what he liked about her. To kiss and caress and kiss again the parts he liked about her.

But she looked pointedly at him now, her eyes searching his, and he could tell that for whatever reason, in that moment she really needed to know what he liked about her. You could love someone out of habit, because it was familiar, and because you were supposed to, he knew. But to truly love and like someone, and sustain that over time was a rare thing indeed. Something to be celebrated, he supposed. Something he should find the courage to verbalize.

He took a breath and looked away for a moment, unable to start with her eyes on his. "I like to hear you sing, I've always liked to hear you sing to the girls, and now just little lines when you think no one is there or forget I am. I like your handwriting, and your hands, and how you hold your teacup. And your beautiful hair that only I ever get to truly see." He looked back to see the glisten in her eyes and an incredulous smile spreading across her face. He found it was easier to keep going now that he had started, but he had to close his eyes to continue, images of the last three decades of their lives spent together flashing before him. "And when you stand up to Isobel or Mary or Mama. And your laugh. And sitting across from you at dinner. How you always seem to read my thoughts, how you humor me into a better mood. And I like you as a mother, and how you care for all of us on the estate, and your toes under my legs to get warm."

She swatted her hand at his chest, but her voice wavered with tears as she spoke. "Robert! You always complain when I do that!"

He shrugged. "That is my privilege as husband - to complain about things I secretly love about my wife."

She clucked her tongue at him, but then burrowed her face into the crook of his neck. He paused for a moment before he continued slowly and softly, whispering his affection for her into the dark. "I like your kindness, your heart for everyone you've ever met, your sense of humor. I like being out somewhere and catching your eyes across a crowded room. Your beautiful eyes. It amazes me every time that you are looking for me as often as I am looking for you."

"Oh, darling," her voice was muffled against his skin, and she trembled just a bit before pulling back to look at him. Her eyes were filled with tears, spilling over as she kissed his face slowly - his forehead, first one cheek and then the other, the tip of his nose and then his lips. "I'm sorry I asked. I don't deserve all this, don't deserve all the love you give me."

She moved to kiss him again, but this time it was he that stilled her motions and tilted her chin up so she looked to him.

"However impolite it is to contradict one's wife, Cora, you absolutely do. And more. I'm only sorry that I'm not a better husband at telling you more often just what you mean to me. I love you, Cor. I love you and I like you. Very much."

Her smile wobbled and fresh tears caught the firelight as they traced her cheeks. "I love you. And I like you, Robert. So very, very much."

And as she rolled more firmly on top of him, and their kisses sparked a new layer of feeling and urgency to express how very much they felt for one another, and hands moved with more intent and more urgency, as night clothes scattered and skin moved against skin and the fire burned lower and lower, every time their lips met he felt as though they were both repeating their promise to each other - "I love you and I like you, I love you and I like you, I love you and I like you. So very, very much."


	2. Chapter 2

She pulled back from kissing him, and what a kiss - long and deep and needy. So much more satisfying than that brief moment on the lawn. He tried to steady his breathing and looked down at her, his beautiful wife. Her lips were parted, her eyes dilated and hat askew. "Is this what you imagined?" she leaned in and whispered against his ear - the heavy weight of her breath, her mouth open and warm as it moved against his ear, her small hands slipping around his back and lower still driving him near total distraction.

"Is - Cora - what?" he was too overwhelmed by her nearness to properly respond. But his body somehow knew what to do - it reacted. His lips moved to her neck, his fingers found her hair, his lower half pressed into hers.

He felt as if he were in a dream, in one of the many dreams he had had of his wife since leaving her weeks before. And then the smell of her perfume was so strong just here under his nose where it met under her ear as he kissed her neck again - it must have intoxicated him. And he'd had too much sun, he thought. And the champagne. Toasting Cora, yes, yes. And then traveling always made one feel so strange. And so light-headed. And so at the mercy of his devious wife who had calmly whisked him away from their family and into a side room and locked the door behind her and pounced on him - the only word he could use to describe it was indeed 'pounce' - before he'd even had a chance to think.

And now he could not think. His very proper wife had him backed up against a wall. Her hands ands her lips and her whispers . . . he knew he could not blame the travel or her perfume or the elements. It was simply her - his Cora, very real and warm and ignoring all sense of propriety to have her way with him in a closet. A closet! Had he passed through time? Were they just 23 and 21 again? No - he could not think clearly at all - not with her body shimmying delightfully against his, their hot kisses growing sloppy, hands roving as he recovered enough agency to twirl them and press her back against the door. She arched her chest up against his and they both moaned softly.

"Earlier - you said you'd imagined a scene - the scene of our meeting again -" she reminded him, removing her gloves and tucking them into his coat pocket before making some space between them. He held his breath as she trailed her now bare fingers down his front until they began working with the fastenings of his pants. They kissed again as she started to ease his clothes down his hips.

He groaned sharply and leaned against her as she palmed his very evident interest. She giggled, pleased with herself and his reaction. He placed hands on the door on either side of her head and looked directly at her.

"Please don't ask me to remember anything else I said this afternoon since I first saw you. Or to remember anything at all - I couldn't possibly - good God - " his head tilted back suddenly as she stroked him, her hands moving over his length lovingly as she leaned forward until her open mouth tasted his neck. His hips rocked into her caress. "Ah - ah - Cor, stop, I won't last - too long - "

"Shh . . ." she whispered, and only gave him a mischievous smile when he snapped his head back down to look at her as she dropped to her knees in front of him, the palms of her hands sweeping over his backside.

His hand went immediately to her hair, "Cora, Cora, darling, you - you don't have to - that it, this isn't what I meant, you don't need to - "

She gazed up at him and only pulled his pants and underclothes down further. She pressed a cheek to his thigh, one hand still on his backside as the other massaged him slowly.

"I know I don't need to, Robert," she said, her hand stroking again, her lips moving now to kiss where her hand had just been. He groaned again and prayed for self-control. "But I want to," she added. "I want to, so very much. To please you," she punctuated her desires with a swirl of her tongue. "To adore you. To show how very much I missed you."

He found that all words had escaped him, and he gave over to the incredible sensations his wife was producing in him. His hand wound itself in her hair - careful not to muss it, but unable to keep his fingers away from its softness, now and again traveling to her cheek as she pulled him closer to the edge. He could hear himself making sounds louder than he should, feel her hum in her mouth around him when he did so, mischievous but ever mindful.

She pressed on and through and smiled around his sputtering warnings until he reached the beginnings of a climax he couldn't help but see through until the end.

Unable to do it himself, she cleaned them up as well as she was able, dressed him again in his pants, and then leaned back against the door between his arms where he still held himself in balance. He opened his eyes lazily to look at the self-satisfied smirk on her face he knew would be there. Her head was tilted, gazing at him, unaware of the state of her hair, the way the fabric of her dress caught against her chest so becomingly as she caught up with her breath.

"Cora - " his voice sounded far too loud in his ears. "Cora," he tried again, "you didn't - that is to say, I wasn't asking - "

"I know, Robert. I know." She kissed him, slowly, and looped her arms lazily around his neck. "You've no idea how many times I have imagined this scene." She pressed languid kisses to his jawline. "Simply because I wanted to, darling. Simply because I'd thought of you, night after night. Like this, and in so many other ways," her voice trailed off in a whisper.

Cora drew back slowly, and he knew his eyes were widening in incredulation when she smiled at him. "Have you really, Cor?" he asked.

"Indeed, I have," she returned, her eyes following her fingers as they reached to play with his tie. "It's been a very trying time, you see. I've needed some . . . fantasies . . . to distract me. To indulge in when I could. There have been so many nights when it was - well. There have been many things on the estate. So many obligations to attend to."

"Many nights and many duties, now?"

"Mm, yes. And my husband has been missing from me for many weeks, off defending my family's honor in a foreign country. Where there isn't even tea, and the food doesn't agree with him. I've been terribly alone and terribly worried for him."

Robert chuckled at the feigned horror in her tone. "He sounds like a fellow very much in love with his wife, to do such a thing."

Her fingers paused their slow journey over his chest and shoulders, but she did not meet his eyes, and her voice was but a whisper when she spoke. "I missed you, darling. So much."

Despite the heated moment that had just passed between them, he could feel the sudden change in the air. They both reached for each other at the same moment, pulling the other as close as they possibly could. He found himself marveling for at least the thousandth time in their relationship how perfectly their bodies angled together - how wonderful it felt to have her pressed up so closely against him.

They swayed back and forth, holding each other for a few moments, before the rush of what had transpired between them faded and both became aware of the distant sounds of a party still in full swing outside. Doors swung open and closed and footsteps sounded in the hallway. Robert pulled back and looked at her with a grin. "It's been rather a long time since you and I have had to escape unnoticed from a closet."

"I'm sure we're still just as good at is as we used to be," she smiled coyly and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before stepping out of his embrace to smooth her dress and adjust her hair.

He watched her fidget with herself and then felt her hands smooth over him as well. It was so comforting and familiar and he couldn't hide the yawn that escaped him. The exhaustion of travel and the adrenaline crash of their clandestine encounter was catching up to him.

She raised a hand to his cheek and caressed him softly and he felt his eyelids drooping despite himself. "Why don't you head upstairs, Robert. I'll make your excuses and come find you in a bit."

"Are you sure? Shouldn't I be out there with you? How long will this 'bit' be, exactly?"

She chuckled. "I'm sure. You go on and rest, darling."

He hummed in agreement and she moved in front of the door, pressing an ear to it to check for anyone passing by before she silently turned the handle. Suddenly he reached for her hand and pulled her back from the door frame.

"Robert!" she gasped, surprised, but let go of the handle and turned to face him.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, thumbing her wedding ring as he pulled her until she was close enough that he could then kiss away the question lining her forehead. "I missed you, too, Cora." He kissed her forehead again. "I just wanted you to know."

"Oh," she said shyly as she pulled away, a light blush staining her cheeks. "Well. I look forward to hearing more about that later."

She looked so pleased at his admission and her voice sounded so sweet to his ears after many weeks away from her that he was tempted to ask her to come up to 'rest' with him, but he knew she needed to return to their family and guests.

"Off with you now, Cor. Don't be gone too long."

They nodded at each other, promises of moments to come shining in their eyes, before she turned and deftly opened the door, peeking out quickly before sliding into the hallway. He heard the clip of her short heels carrying her away and back to the garden party, waiting a few minutes until he felt he could make his escape unnoticed.


	3. Chapter 3

Cora pressed the back of her hand to her cheeks and felt the flush still there. The color was growing fainter, or so she hoped, as she walked back towards the church bazaar. She nearly turned back to see if he'd made it to the hallway, but mindful of the watchful eyes of servants, she resisted. _And where had that mindful eye been an hour ago when you'd_ \- her brain reminder her.

 _Oh, never mind that now!_ She scolded the imaginary voice. She'd been careful. They'd been quite subdued, really. It was only they'd been caught in compromising positions more than a few times, but she could only imagine the gossip it would cause now, as they were both nearly grandparents.

Goodness! The thought struck her nearly senseless - they were indeed nearly grandparents, and yet . . . nothing had felt old or obligatory or . . . grandmotherly at all. She could hardly believe her own behavior - was it the champagne? The heat of the sun? She hadn't pulled him into a closet for some terrific fun in ….. She frowned to think of how long it had been since they had done something so daring, so naughty, so wonderful.

Cora felt she still wasn't quite over the shock of seeing him suddenly there upon the lawn. How handsome he'd looked; his eyes blue and shining at her in the sunlight. How wonderful he'd smelled, dusty and tired though he was from traveling. How sweet his lips had felt pressed to her own, there on the lawn in front of everyone! And how dear and unexpected the words he'd said to her.

To have him back again without any warning was a shock to say the least. And then the toasts, his hand in hers, and then on her back, dropping to cup her hip. There was a stolen kiss as they walked around the lawn, another one, mouths opening briefly in a rare moment alone on the bench under the great tree . . . suddenly the weeks without him had felt so much longer and the desire to be just the two of them so much stronger. Too strong for her to resist.

They hadn't spent so much time apart since the Boer War and she had felt his absence every day and every night more keenly than she had anticipated. She'd wished for his presence at each moment, especially with the big party to plan and then host. How she hated doing things like this on her own.

Then he had suddenly appeared, causing that flutter in her stomach that he always did. And his toasts to her success had been so sweet. He'd been so attentive, even after traveling such a long way, that when he'd tried to stifle another yawn in the middle of something Mama had been saying, she'd had every intention of being a dutiful wife and walking him inside and up to his bed for a rest.

'Yes,' she'd thought. 'I'll simply see that he's comfortable in the library. Perhaps I can convince him to take a nap while I supervise everything outside. We have plenty of time to catch up later.'

But then his hand had caught hers, his shoulder had nudged hers playfully. One kiss, and then one more to her neck in the doorway as they'd entered the side of the house, his hand on her cheek and then his fingertips dancing on her neckline in an empty hallway, and she'd suddenly felt very inspired.

She was blushing again. How would she make it through the next few hours? How long did she have to stay out here on the lawn? She'd said they could clean everything up the next day. It was nearly evening now, nearly everyone was gone. A small lap around the yard, yes, just to keep up appearances. She nodded and thanked the few staff she ran into, and then shook her head to clear it as she approached her family lounging in chairs and still enjoying some champagne.

"There you are, Mama. Did you talk Papa into bed?" Edith asked, bringing her focus back to the present.

Cora cleared her throat against the unbidden images that came up in her mind at her daughter's innocent question. "Yes, he needed to get out of the sun and rest a bit, darling. He's traveled such a long way to surprise us. I expect he'll be sorted by morning." She smiled at her middle child and patted her shoulder.

"It was rather nice of him to surprise us, especially in time to see most of the day you've worked so hard to organize. I'm rather impressed he managed to pull it off. Even Bates seemed completely unaware of his return. Were you pleased, Mama?" Mary glanced up at her mother as she spoke.

"Oh, very. And I expect he was, too, to see things running so smoothly. I must thank everyone again for all their help."

At that, everyone began talking all at once mentioning names of people who had been particularly helpful, and contriving ways to thank them. They discussed the small games, the set up of the tables, the need to establish expectations that were perhaps a little more clear to the staff . . . but Edith's query managed to cut above the general fray to Cora's ears.

"You've worked very hard, Mama. You truly deserve all the credit. But I must say - you are looking a little fevered just now," Edith commented.

Rosamund nodded in agreement, looking a bit more knowing and amused than Cora felt safe with. "Cora, dear, are you feeling quite well? Perhaps you've outdone yourself with the bazaar."

Cora pressed her hand to her cheek, and indeed the heat of her encounter with Robert and subsequent thoughts still lingered.

"Goodness, Mama - and where are your gloves? You've gone and lost them," Mary commented over her tea cup. "You must really be distracted."

She glanced down at her bare hands in surprise and then back at the house. "Oh, dear. I must have left them inside somewhere. I don't know where I could have - " but suddenly she did have a very vivid memory of stuffing them in Robert's front pocket as they'd pressed heated kisses to each other in the hall closet. She flushed again and looked up at the sound of muffled laughter from her sister-in-law.

"Cora, dear, I daresay the sun and the bazaar and excitement of my dear brother's return has quite worn you out. I think you should head upstairs as well," Rosamund reached to pat her hand and turned her head just so that only Cora could see the tiny wink she gave her. "You look quite beside yourself. I think you've earned a lie down. We can take it from here."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her cheeky sister-in-law's choice of words, Cora channeled her embarrassment into an agreeable sigh. She pursed her lips and tried to sound as exhausted from throwing the party as everyone (except Rosamund) was making her out to be. She made her excuses, thanked the servants again, and tried to keep a controlled pace on her walk back to the house and up the stairs to their bedroom.

Finding Baxter on the first floor as she'd entered had saved her from dismissing her maid from the bedroom. Now as she stood in their room, trying to undress as quietly and quickly as possible, she was so thankful she'd run into Baxter.

Robert lay curled towards his side of the bed. She could not yet make out all his features as she removed her jewelry and took down her hair before changing. The fading light through the still opened curtains cast long shadows about the room, and she shivered as she removed the final vestiges of Countess before creeping as silently as she could under the covers.

But it was no use.

"There you are," he grumbled, like a bear slowly waking from hibernation. His hands reached back towards her.

"I didn't want to wake you, darling," she lied, letting him guide her closer, secretly delighting in the greedy way his fingers pulled her in. "You looked so comfortable, and I know you need your rest - " she argued, half-heartedly, angling her face into the valley of his shoulders, her hands sliding around his middle. "Perhaps I should have -"

"I'm glad you're here," his words cut off her half-hearted excuses. His sleepy hands moved against hers as she nestled in closer to him.

"Oh, well, I'm glad you're here, too," she agreed, her response muffled as she kissed his neck.

She felt herself relax against him, her heartbeat slowing to match his, his warmth reaching out to touch her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Minutes passed and stretched. The fire crackled warmly in the background and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so content to do nothing more than be right where she was.

"Robert," she heard herself say into the dark, against the pulse beating in his neck. "Robert, darling," she whispered again, not even to him, not even to herself, but simply to say the name of her beloved. Her lips moved against his shoulders, slowly, saying his name again and again, barely even a sound.

He hummed lightly, she felt it vibrate against the spaces between them until he was pressing himself back into her touch, barely conscious, she knew. And she felt the edges of sleep clinging closely to her as well. The stress of the bazaar and then the events and emotions of the day were catching up to her. If she were honest, she hadn't slept well a single night since he'd left her. But now that he was back and beside her, she felt relaxed and truly comfortable for the first time in weeks, and her body and spirit delighted in it.

"I missed you so very much. I love you so very much," she whispered the words into the night, not even sure if he would hear them, let alone answer her, but not caring. She said them just to say them.

She felt herself relax more and more, nestling closer to him, settling in and nearly asleep when -

"I know no better rest than to be next to you, Cor," he said. His words were quiet, but she heard and felt and rejoiced in them in every part of her. "I had every intention of waking up and thanking you for your ah - " he stalled, and she smiled sleepily against him as he continued - "for your earlier attentions to me . . . but I hope you can forgive me my fatigue and wait until morning."

She would have giggled at the way he'd danced around his words if she weren't so tired. As it was, she merely pressed herself closer to him to whisper. "I'm sure you'll figure something out, darling. And until then - I missed this part of being with you as much as anything. So let's sleep now, mm? I can finally rest easy tonight, darling, to have you with me again."

He reached his arm back and felt for her hip under the blanket, pulling her just a bit closer to him, and quickly ran his hand against the silky material. "What? What's this - it feels lovely."

"It's new," she smiled in the dark as his hands became a bit more purposeful in their wandering. "Robert . . . you said you were tired. I'm tired, too, darling. Let's try and - "

"It's just - " he managed before flipping over more quickly than she would have thought possible. He tucked her against him, anchored her again in his arms and slid his palms more firmly over her backside. His calf hooked around hers and slipped her thigh between his; her hands had shimmied over his chest and up to her neck before she even had time to think.

An "oh" of pleasure slipped through her lips as he settled their bodies tightly against each other. The warmth of his breath ghosted over her shoulder and she burrowed her face against his neck as he continued caressing her through her nightgown.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked softly, his hands leaving goosebumps of awareness in their wake.

Her neck crooked in a way she knew would hurt come morning, and her hip would tingle and demand shifting soon, and with Robert's mouth so close to her ear, she was sure to hear the snoring in a few minutes, but nothing could stop her from saying -

"Yes, darling. Perfectly so."

"Hmm. It _is_ lovely," he confirmed, brushing against her gown again. "I can't tell in this light but I am guessing it is dark blue and I look forward to revealing more of its merits in the morning. But for now . . . I hope you will forgive me if we just . . . as you said . . . " She felt a soft kiss press to her hairline. One more kiss. Another. "You are so very lovely, Cora. I'll remind you how lovely, I'll remind you just how lovely in a few hours if I can just regain my strength. You in the closet, you see. I'm quite done in."

She chuckled against his neck. They moved in answer to one another again, closer still, and she had another moment of worry for the muscles and nerves that might complain of this particular position in a few hours. But she shrugged it off, merely pulling away from his neck far enough to whisper in his ear -

"You may remind me as many times as you like come morning, Robert."

His answering nod dipped into a snore, and she smiled widely to know he was home. Here in their bed, exhausted, unclean, undone, hers alone, and home.


End file.
